


If Lost Please Return to Me

by BitterTongue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterTongue/pseuds/BitterTongue
Summary: “Therapy dogs are able to sense when someone is having an anxiety attack. You must really have needed some comfort.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Porting over from my tumblr Cordytriestowrite

Bucky was trying, really trying this time, to rejoin the world. It was just so different. And so was he now. It’s like trying to mix a drop of oil into a glass of water, no matter how much you shake and stir the oil will always float to the top, desperate to separate itself from the other liquid. Still, Bucky tried putting himself amongst the population that now inhabited New York. That’s how he found himself in Central Park this cloudy Wednesday morning. Sam had suggested the park the day before.  
“It’s big and open, so if you’re feeling overwhelmed you got a lot of room to breathe.” Sam had reasoned while Steve silently nodded beside him. Bucky agreed for Steve’s sake. His best friend was feeling just like he did, a man lost in time, but he tried to hide it, to keep strong for the team and for Bucky. Bucky knew he had to try and get better if not for himself at least for his friends, the ones who saved him.  
Right now it all felt like too much. Everywhere he turned there were people. They were talking too loudly, making Bucky cringe with each laugh or exclamation that stood out higher than the already overwhelming chatter. The colors were too bright for his eyes and he wished he had brought his sunglasses. Had grass always been this green? Anytime it seemed like someone was coming towards him he could feel the metal plates in his artificial arm shifting and their whirring was a comforting sound despite the deadly implication. No one did meet him directly, instead breaking off the sidewalk to walk around him or find a spot for themselves on the lush grass. For that he was thankful.  
Bucky took himself off the sidewalk and away from the intimidating crowd that spanned either side of the path. He made his way past a pair of sunbathing girls, a mother watching a group of young boys playing a makeshift game of soccer, and what seemed to be a college art class drawing inspiration from the fresh air. Bucky found himself slowing down as he reached untrampled grass and relative stillness.  
He wanted to sit down like the others, wanted to enjoy the sun on his face and the blades of grass between his fingers, but he found he couldn’t bring himself to relax. His stance was that of preparedness, his muscles tense and ready to fight, but there was nothing, no battle go be fought or danger to defeat. His breath quickened as he realized this and subsequently understood that his body and mind were in conflict, neither understanding the other. It reminded him of HYDRA and the Winter Soldier they created. The soldat they had turned him into had taken his body from him while Bucky was trapped in his only in his head and right now he felt too close to his days as an unwilling assassin. His breath quickened as he sank into a reflection of torture and enslavement and so much pain.  
The soft head placed itself under Bucky’s right hand, tickling the flesh on his palm and surprising him out of his dark thoughts. He looked down to find his palm fitted between a set of large, erect ears. The creature’s muzzle bucked under his wrist, prompting Bucky to rub his hand back and forth across the animals head.  
“Hey boy.” Bucky greeted softly, bending at the knees to bring himself level to the German Shepherd. Now crouched he let his eyes roam down the length of the large dog, letting him know he needed to correct his words.  
“Oops, sorry girl.” He apologized with a small smile. He continued to pet the dogs head as it stood patiently with him, her long tail swaying back and forth lazily.  
Bucky felt his shoulders relax away from his ears and his tense metal arm whir into a neutral position. He might have even chuckled at the way the dog rested her head on his large thigh but he couldn't be sure. All he knew was this dog came to him and she wasn’t his, so he needed to return her to her owner. With one hand remaining on her head, stroking absently, his other hand reached for her neck successfully finding a different textile among all the fur; a collar. He let his fingers run down the strip of fabric until they clicked against a tag. He pulled the small tag up the side of the dog’s neck until he could read it.  
“If lost please return to-”  
“Me! Sorry, she’s with me.” You approached panting slightly. Bucky looked up, squinting slightly as you approached with the sun at your back. The light allowed you to see the bright blue of his eyes and you found yourself faltering in your light jog. You watched him rise, the dog staying at his side, head not too far from his dangling hand.  
“I am so sorry,” you started to explain, “I turned around for a second and she was gone.”  
Bucky nodded, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.  
“She’s beautiful.” He finally said lowly, feeling foolish after he said it. He bitterly lamented the days when he could talk to a woman with confidence. Now he could barely make eye contact when a beautiful woman gave him any attention.  
“She is. She’s my favorite.” You smiled as you took in the dutiful German Shepherd who still hadn’t left the man’s side. She was attentive and responsive only to his movements. She would be ready soon.  
“You have more dogs?” Bucky found himself asking before he could stop himself. His eyes met yours again briefly before he looked away, biting his lip and chiding himself silently. Where was this vocal Bucky coming from? He absently rubbed the dog’s head, enjoying how her soft, warm fur felt and allowing himself to focus on the sensation more than his negative thoughts.  
You smiled brightly, the subject of your work bringing passion to your voice as you explained, “I’m a foster parent to therapy dogs. I train them to be certified and then they sent to someone who needs them.”  
“Therapy dogs?” Bucky repeated in confusion, eyeing his new four-legged friend curiously. Dogs were simply pets or strays when he was growing up, now dogs had special titles?  
“Therapy dogs are able to sense when someone is having an anxiety attack. You must really have needed some comfort.” You joked. Despite your melodic giggle Bucky felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. The dog wasn’t just being friendly, she was trying to comfort him. She was doing her job. Unconsciously Bucky took a step back, but the dog followed and with her so did you.  
“Are you okay?” You questioned, concern flooding your features. The man looked afraid and ready to flee at any moment. His demeanor had changed so suddenly it would have startled you if you weren’t familiar with it. That being said it wasn’t your job to comfort, only to train the animals to comfort people and even then they don’t use words to do so. You weren’t ever sure what to say in situations like these.  
“I’m fine.” Bucky shot out in a slight panic, feeling his heart begin to beat rapidly. He felt remorse for his rude tone but was unable to express it past the crushing dread expanding through his chest with each heartbeat. Suddenly he felt paws on his chest, right where the dread was pressing down and suffocating him. He placed both hands on the dog’s neck and rubbed, feeling relief from the heaviness in his chest with each stroke. He crouched down and allowed her paws to climb to his shoulders and her tongue to lap at his stubbled cheeks. She smelled like dirt and fresh grass when he buried his face into her neck. The smell comforted him enough to steady his breathing.  
If he noticed your approach he did not comment on it, nor did he pull further away. You placed your hand into the fur on the dog’s back, scratching her right where you knew she liked it. Her tail wagged a little faster at the feeling, making you smile. You were surprised when his face rose from her neck with a smile of his own. He was beautiful when he smiled, you mused and you felt that for some reason you were lucky to see the grin, like he didn’t do it often.  
“What’s her name?” He whispered, hands wandering softly down her back, smoothing down her fur and brushing his fingers against yours accidentally when he reached too far. You looked down and saw two different colored fingertips pulling away from yours and couldn’t come up with a logical explanation for the difference, instead assuming it was a trick of the light, maybe a ring reflecting the light so blindingly it encompassed his whole hand in your eyes. You cleared your throat to answer and tore your eyes away from where his hands once were.  
“Her name is Sky. Though once she is fully trained her owner will probably change her name.”  
“I like Sky.” Bucky muttered, rubbing his right hand broadly over Sky’s head, causing her to pant in contentment. He kept his left hand hidden away from your line of sight, something you noticed but did not comment on.  
“Me too.” You agreed. Sky pushed off of Bucky’s shoulders and took a step away from him, feeling that he had calmed down enough. Her tailed wagged more enthusiastically as she playfully pranced between you causing you both to laugh.  
“We’re here every Wednesday.” You said hurriedly before the nerve left you, “I’m sure Sky wouldn't mind the company. I-I wouldn't either.”  
You let your head fall as the last of your bravado left you stumbling over your words, only to find your eyes leveling with his crotch. You were certain he noticed where your gaze had landed even if it was only for a second, but it prompted you rise to your feet and latch Sky’s leash to her collar. Waving goodbye as you pulled your foster dog back to your original spot further down.  
Bucky watched you back away with Sky, feeling confused but ultimately calm and content and very much different from how he thought he would feel when he first entered the park. He rose leisurely to his feet as his new pair of friends became hard to see against the setting sun.  
“Every Wednesday.” Bucky mumbled to himself, knowing no one was around to hear but feeling compelled to speak his thoughts out loud, “I can be free on Wednesdays.”  
Shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans he turned around and made his way through the sunbathers and soccer players, barely noticing them as he had before.  
He couldn’t wait to tell Steve and Sam he did it, though he was still debating if he would tell his friends how he got through his solo trip to the park. He walked all the way home before deciding he would keep Skye and her owner a secret for now, not sure if it was even worth mentioning the encounter. Still, he found himself eager for a trip to the park the following Wednesday.


	2. Chapter 2

“Be free girl.” You muttered, breath slightly labored from holding Sky back, her excitement to play with the ducks at the edge of the pond winning over your commands for her to calm down. When Sky wasn’t in the vest that told her she was working she seemed to have selective hearing to your instructions, something you would need to work on.  
You rose from the bend at your waist after her leash was unhooked and watched the German Shepherd barrel down the slight slope to the bank, barking in delight as she unsettled the sleeping mallards who squawked in annoyance. Some fled into the water, floating just far enough to consider themselves safe, others waddled hurriedly down the shoreline their pace determined by how close the hound was at their webbed heels.  
You let your eyes wander around Central Park, spotting a few familiar faces and many more unfamiliar ones. You knew who you were looking for between all the joggers, nappers, and artists. You were looking for him, the man from last Wednesday who hadn’t managed to leave your head all week.  
All week you had prepared yourself for today and for the possibility that he would not show up. You feared the missed connection, the what-ifs, and what-could-have-beens. You hoped your meeting was not meant to be the passings by of two strangers who would never meet again. You reached into your bag and took out your small blanket, unfolding the heavy material and letting it gently float down onto the grass. Once seated you removed a few of Sky’s toys, some for training and some for fun, and tried to relax and enjoy the comfortable heat of the afternoon.  
Sky, running amongst what was left of the flock, paused her frolic to lift her head and sniff the air. Your brow crinkled beneath your large sunglasses at the odd behavior. Sky was not aggressive or territorial with other dogs so they would not stop her play. She did have a penchant for strong smelling foods but there was nothing you could smell with your weaker sense to indicate she had found a new target. When her ears perked forward and she took off running your fingers went cold with fear that your usually obedient canine was lost to you forever. It was the same fear you felt when you realized she had gone missing last week. You shot up from your spot on the blanket and sprinted in the direction Sky had gone, eyes scanning the grass and trees for any sign of her.  
You slowed to a walk upon spotting her, tail wagging and face pointed up, standing in line next to a tall figure at a pop up popsicle stand. Your shoulders slumped in relief as the figure she stood next to turned and revealed a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes. It was him.  
You decided to stay back a bit and observe the pair as they waited their turn in line. Sky was close to his right leg, her tail lazily swaying and her mouth open in a soft pant. His hand rested atop her head, between her ears, his fingers flexing and relaxing occasionally making Sky’s eyes squint in contentment. You watched him turn his head to her again, mouth moving as his lips upturned. Sky’s attention darted to him for a moment before returning to the cart. You watched the man tilt his chin up and look around at eye level. You waited with bated breath for his eyes to meet yours, wondering if he would even remember you. You needn’t have worried. He offered a small wave in your direction and beckoned you over.  
He looked better than he did last week you noted now that you were by his side, Sky between you and unaffected by your arrival. While his smile was small it reached his eyes making the skin at the corners wrinkle in a hardly noticeable way. You wondered if he had been this calm before Sky showed up at his side, if she had sensed his distress like she did before and come running.  
“Hello again.” He said lowly, his hat obscuring his features as he stared down at Sky again.  
“Hi.” You said back, feeling suddenly comfortable, like a girl on a first date unsure if she would get kissed at the end but knowing she really wanted to. A cold, wet nose bumped the bare skin of your knee.  
The line move forward and you stood in silence, both of you using Sky as a buffer when the moment got too stagnant from lack of flowing conversation. Occasionally your hands would brush together as they ran over the Shepherd's coat filling you with a giddy modesty as you quickly pull your hand away, but not far enough to prevent it from happening again.  
“What can I get ya?” You were asked when your group reached the front of the line.  
He gestured for you to order and once you did he asked for one more of the same. Money was exchanged before you could protest and with two popsicles clutched between your fingers your party made it’s way back to your blanketed spot.  
“Thank you,” you said as you sat down and handed him the additional sweet.  
He nodded and you enjoyed the quickly melting sugar in silence. The sun was high and hot and quickly destroying the relief your cold treat was providing making it impossible to savor for more than a few minutes. With sticky hands you reached into your bag and grabbed the emergency baby wipes usually reserved for when Sky’s paws got too muddy to enter a place without leaving a trail of prints in her wake. You moved the wipe between each finger until they could come together and separate without a lingering cling. Unthinkingly you pulled out a fresh wipe and grabbed your new handsome friend’s red stained right hand, removing the substance for him.  
“What’s your name?” You asked, attempting to distract him from your ministrations. He looked surprised and a little embarrassed but you didn't want to stop. His hands were strong and rough but warm and pliant and he did not pull away when he answered.  
“Bucky. What’s yours?” His voice was low and uneven and you told him your own with an equally low and uneven tone. You both looked up from your work on his hand, feeling the tension break and allow the bloom of your friendship to flourish. You smiled as you dropped his now clean, damp hand and went to start on the other, unaware of what the thoughtless action was doing to him.  
Bucky’s heart thumped so suddenly in his chest it caused him to break out into a sweat when your delicate fingers pulled at his metallic palm. He didn’t like when people touched his false arm. Even Steve, his best friend, had to be careful not to brush against it in fear of sending Bucky running. He pulled his arm away, as if your touch burned him. Shoving his hand into his pocket, obscuring it from view Bucky stumbled up to a stand.  
One step backwards, then another, and then a set of paws pressing against his chest. Bucky’s eyes focused on Sky, where once they could not focus on anything but colors and blurry shapes. She pressed again, her spine flexing with the stretch to reach his breast and smother his racing heart. Bucky placed both hands around her neck and bent his own neck to touch his forehead to her. He breathed in and out, the smell of dirt and grass and dog filling his senses and relieving him of the phantom smell of burning hair and the taste of coppery blood his mouth had conjured.  
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to-” beyond the blood rushing in his ears he could hear your frightened voice. He wished he could comfort you, assure you it was not your fault, that he was broken and had seen to much and was scared of himself more than others. But he couldn’t do more than breathe and hold back tears and hate his body and mind for separating and keeping him apart from people like you.  
It might have been a minute, in Bucky’s head it was more likely to be an hour, but through ears and fur and paws against his pecs he came down from the adrenaline that usually would have sent him running until his surroundings were unfamiliar and his body could not carry him home. Sky fell down his body, snagging briefly on the fabric gap between his shirt and pants before bouncing onto the grass. She sat before him, looking up at him and waiting, like she knew he was on the cusp of falling back into blind emotion and she had to be ready to bring him back.  
“Don’t touch my arm.” He growled, his voice unintentionally rough and threatening. He watched you scoot back on your blanket, the skirt of your dress rising up higher on your thigh making Bucky swallow at the sight of the new flesh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a woman’s thigh and wanted to run his hand along it, feel it beneath his fingers and know his touch was loving and wouldn’t damage the sensitive skin. Your leg looked warm and inviting but your face, when he managed to tear his eyes away from your exposed skin, was wide-eyed and afraid. The breath rushed from his lungs and left him feeling lightheaded.  
“I’m sorry. I’m not ready.” Was all he could think to say, the only words he could pull out of his head that made sense. He motioned for Sky to stay where she was and steadied his breathing before walking away.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky checked the time displayed on the dash surreptitiously. 3pm, he had probably missed you and Sky’s weekly trip to the park. He leaned back dejectedly, feeling cramped in the backseat. He wished he could have seen you, even if you hadn’t seen him in weeks.  
He just wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready to be touched or to let someone new into his life. He wasn’t ready to let his walls down or feel for a second like his life was normal. He just wasn’t ready.  
But that didn’t stop him from going to the park every day to see you. He wasn’t ready to walk away. Wasn’t ready to lose the flutter of his heart when he saw you, or the smile he gained from hearing Sky’s bark echo into his ears from afar. He just wasn’t ready.  
Today he had no choice in the matter. Bucky, Steve, and Sam had been called across town early in the morning and were now just returning.  
“We can drop you off at the park if you want,” Sam offered from the passenger seat, eyes meeting Bucky’s in the rearview mirror, “It’s on the way home.”  
Bucky shook his head, declining what he assumed would be a moot point if you and Sky were not there. Steve, with his eyes still on the road, didn’t catch Bucky’s movements.  
“I’d like to go to the park. It’s a nice day. I have a notebook in here somewhere. I’d like to do some sketching.” His eyes left briefly to search the interior for said notebook.  
From the back seat Bucky could do nothing to prevent Steve from turning left towards the park. If he protested, worked himself up over going, he knew he would be questioned, but if he stayed silent and you were still there…  
By the time Steve parked the car Bucky’s breathing was labored as his mind raced through all the terrible things that could happen and choosing the few that would definitely happen to stew his racing heart in until it boiled into a hardened organ that could barely continue its original function. His lip was numb as he watched Steve and Sam open their doors. Taking a deep breath he opened his own door with a tremoring hand, promptly ducked behind the automobile.  
He had recognized you in an instant as you strode down the street directly towards the car. Your legs bare under jean shorts and your hair loose you were walking calmly with a leashed Sky away from Central Park, that is until Sky got a whiff or a glance of Bucky and went into an excited and eager frenzy. Bucky held his breath from behind the cover of the car, lip trembling and eyes closed in a silent prayer. He wasn’t ready.  
“Sky, heel.” He could hear you command, but based on the sound of nails scratching against concrete and desperate whines she was not listening. Bucky heard Steve laugh.  
“She’s excited about something.” Steve said, his tone playful. Daring a peak Bucky pulled himself up just enough to catch sight of his best friend crouched next go Sky through the window, petting her back with large swipes. Sky wasn’t even lavishing in the attention. She was still straining against her leash, her nose pointed to the car.  
“I am so sorry, she’s very well trained usually.” You grunted with the effort to heave the large German Shepard away.  
Bucky ducked back down after seeing Sam approach you and grab the leash just below your hand to help you pull. He envied Sam’s proximity. Sam didn’t hesitate. Sam wasn’t messed up like he was. Sam could be everything you needed. You’d probably like Sam more.  
“Thank you. Yet again I am so sorry.” You offered more apologies that Steve and Sam shrugged off with ease. The sounds of your duo faded away from Bucky’s ears, but he still waited a beat to rise to a stand.  
“Let me ask you something Steve,” Sam began, his and Steve’s backs still turned away from Bucky, “Is our friend here afraid of dogs?”  
“Nope. He loves them actually.” Steve replied in a feigned casual tone that Bucky could see right through.  
“Then why would he hide from a pretty girl and her dog?”  
Both men turned to Bucky then with matching smirks and crossed arms. He put his head down, unwilling to see himself finally caught out. He opened the back door again and settled himself in, resolutely facing forward and avoiding their gaze.  
The matching smirks and crossed arms turned to mirrored questioning gazes and concerned frowns. The two men joined Bucky in the car, Steve starting the engine and driving in the direction you had walked away, hoping another glance would provide more insight, or provoke an explanation.  
They watched with pitiful interest as Bucky’s body slumped down out of view as they came up on you at a red light you were crossing. His eyes never left you until the light turned green and he couldn’t keep you in his sights without turning around completely.  
“I’m…just not ready, guys.”  
-  
You lifted your head high as you walked away from the men by their car, and the man you knew was hiding behind it. You had recognized him instantly, so in tune to your need to see his face again you almost thought you had conjured him there, like a mirage. Between Sky’s frantic need to get to him and your glimpse you knew, you knew he was there and didn’t want to see you. You pulled your gaze to the cloudy sky as wetness pooled along your lower lash line. Worse than not seeing him since you fucked everything up was seeing him and knowing he would do anything not to be seen by you.  
“That was rough.” You said absently to Sky, who was now obediently by your side, though her tail was low and stiff to m as Tchaikovsky her dejected mood. You stood silently before the crosswalk, your eyes drying up as you consciously kept yourself from blinking and sending the overflow onto your cheeks.  
You crossed the road in front of the waiting vehicles, back straight and stride firm. You could see the car up ahead in the middle lane, the blue Volkswagen sticking out like a sore thumb among the newer, duller colored cars. You didn’t turn to look as you passed, figuring if Bucky was in there he would only hide from you again. With each step your humiliation turned to stubborn, prideful anger. You continued down the sidewalk as you heard the engines hum with acceleration and knew he was gone. Only then did you stop and turn to look at where he once was.  
“We don’t need him, do we girl?” You said bitterly, both you and Sky affixed in your spot of the sidewalk. A few more tugs to Sky’s leash and a soft, defiant whine had you on your way home.


	4. Chapter 4

There were days Bucky thought he could do it, go back to the park and join you and Sky for a few hours in the sun and fresh air. Then there were days where he felt nauseous at the thought, days where he imagined your rejection and the sky would open and rain would wash away any hope. On the days he felt good he would walk to the park but only get as far as the path leading into the fields of grass and loungers. On the days he felt bad he didn't leave his bed at all.  
It was just after one, he knew because he had been eyeing the clock for the last hour trying to gain the nerve to get out of bed. It was Wednesday, you and Sky would be at the park. He could be there too if he just got out of bed, but something in his mind held him back, it always did. A soft knock on his door managed to break the staring contest he was having with the time.   
“Hey Buck, gonna get up today?” Steve asked quietly from the doorway. Bucky turned to face him, barely peeking out from underneath the covers.  
“Is there something going on?” He mumbled, pulling the blanket down and sitting up. His back ached from the hours of laying down.   
Steve shrugged, “Just thought maybe you'd want to get some fresh air. We can go with you if you want.”  
Despite his aching back Bucky laid down and pulled the covers up over his head. Worse than his own struggle with going back was Steve's struggle with letting it go, letting you go. He felt the bed dip near his hip.  
“Bucky you can't keep doing this to yourself.”   
Bucky held his breath and remained as still as possible. He knew it was immature but he wasn't ready to have this talk, no matter how many times Steve initiated it.  
“You were doing so well.” Steve muttered lowly, the disappointment in his voice so palpable Bucky almost choked on it. Tears welled up in his eyes and his chin wobbled. It was too stifling under the blanket.   
“I don't know what happened between you and that girl but you can't let it send you back here.”  
Bucky pulled the covers away from his face and took in a deep breath. Turning his head slightly he caught his friend’s eye and felt the words push against his lips.   
“She touched me. Touched my hand.” the words tumbled out in a rush of emotion. He pulled the arm in question out from under the covers. It was dull and heavy in the weak light straining to break through the curtains. Every time he blinked he could see the blood that more than once ran down his fingers. He thought he could still see the dried flakes of reddish brown between the plates of his forearm, even though most nights he spent scrubbing every inch of his weaponized limb, wishing he could feel raw flesh instead of nothing at all.  
He had forgotten Steve was there, so lost in his own head, but when he managed to pull his gaze away he leveled a hard stare straight into the last pair of eyes he saw before his life ended and the Winter Soldier’s began.  
“I've killed people. I've held lives in this hand and snuffed them out. I could do the same to her one day.”  
“That's not who you are anymore, Bucky.”  
Bucky pulled himself back up to a seated position, resting his back against the headboard. Steve didn't move from his spot at the edge of the bed. It was silent for a while, Bucky watched the minutes pass. It was half past one, he could still make it to the park if only the one thought in his head wasn't holding him back.  
“What if she doesn't like who I am because of who I was?”   
The question was finally out, emptying the chambers of his heart and letting blood pour through for the first time in weeks. His heartbeat was wild and strong, his breath heavy yet still too shallow. Steve pulled a half smile, his eyes glassy and far off. He turned to his best friend, with his bedhead and red-rimmed eyes, and placed a hand, gentle and light, to the juncture where flesh met metal. Bucky's breath caught in his throat at the sensation, his jaw clenching reflexively, but he held strong and didn't pull away.  
“You have to let her make that decision, the same way you let me.”   
Bucky nodded and Steve pulled his hand back. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he got up from the bed and walked to the door.  
“I like her dog too. She's a therapy dog.”  
Steve didn't turn around, unable to keep the wide smile from his face. He didn't want Bucky to see it and know how close he was to dissolving into laughter.  
“Did you know dogs have jobs now?”  
Steve's forehead hit the door as he laughed, a tear or two falling as Bucky laughed along with him.   
-  
The park cleared pretty quickly as dark grey storm clouds rolled in from the west. Despite the drop in temperature as the sun was engulfed by the clouds you and Sky remained at the edge of the pond. The German Shepherd was not too far from you, rolling on her back in a patch of grass with a rope toy dangling from her teeth. Her ears flopped and folded with every turn making you laugh which shook your phone, producing a shaky video. You posted the video despite the quality. Sky’s training has taken two weeks longer than planned and the person in line to take her had purchased another service animal due to the delay. Sky was good, obedient, attentive, but her training went out the window after you had stumbled upon Bucky in the street, hiding behind two friends and a blue punch buggy. You resented and missed him at the same time.   
Sky rolled over onto her feet and barely gave herself a second before tearing off through the park, her rope toy still dangling from her mouth. You let your head fall back and sent a groan into the clouds above you. She hadn't done that in weeks and you couldn't afford to keep retraining this behavior.  
“Hi girl.” you heard distantly before Sky's growls echoed over to you. You pulled yourself up quickly. If Sky was showing signs of aggression to strangers or other animals she would never find a home.   
When you saw him, playfully tugging at Sky's toy in her mouth, you thought you must be seeing things, especially since his face held a wide smile you had never seen before. You walked closer to the playful pair cautiously, afraid to break whatever spell had settled around the illusion. Sky brought her body low and her rump high and tugged sharply, her tail wagging furiously. She managed to break his grip and began shaking her head side to side before catching the toy between her paws and settling down to chew at the frayed end. Only then did he look up at you and silently affirm he was solid and authentic and real.   
“Hi.” he said, his mouth stayed open as if he wanted to say more, but nothing came out. You waited for the words but once you realized they would not come you allowed your own to take their place.  
“I am so pissed at you. I'm pissed and I'm sad and I am so, so sorry. I should not have touched your arm and I feel so bad that I ruined...whatever this is. But I am pissed that you hid from me. And from Sky! You set her back weeks and now I have to find someone else to take her-”  
“I'll take her.”  
“What?”  
“I said I'll take her. If it's my fault. I want to make it up to her, and to you.”  
You crossed your arms and considered him, he looked bashful at least, his eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. You felt a lick of satisfaction that could only come from letting him know how you really felt, but paired with that was guilt for taking your frustration out on him the minute he came back into your life.   
“You don't have to.”  
“I want to.” he says finally looking you in the eye again. You saw so much in his bright blue eyes, so much truth and raw pain. You lost your breath as you watched Sky drop her toy and set herself by his side, her paw extending to brush his calf. His hand immediately reached between her ears.  
“You two are meant to be I think.”   
He nodded and bit back a smile as he stared down at the panting canine. Sky seemed to know his eyes were on her and she tilted her head up, tongue rolling out to the side, nothing but adoration on her face.   
“I'll draw up the paperwork.” you choked out, so happy for them while simultaneously sad for you. Saying goodbye to the dogs was always bittersweet. You felt wetness on your cheek and wiped it away, not realizing you were crying. Another drop hit your face, then another, and you realized you weren't crying, but the clouds had finally opened up.  
The three of you tore through the dampening grass, feet sinking low into the dirt with each step. Bucky helped you gather your bag and blanket, both soaked through in the downpour.   
“Come on.” Bucky called over the rain, reaching a hand out to you. It was his metal hand, the one he drew away from you weeks ago for touching. You didn't want to take it again and ruin everything so soon after if was set right. In your hesitation Bucky realized the predicament he was putting both of you in. He switched Sky's leash to that hand and offered you his flesh one. You had no hesitation taking it this time.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky ran, he ran fast and hard. He ran between the sparse clusters of commuters, he ran across streets and around corners, and the whole time he was acutely aware of your hand in his. Your hand was warm, getting chilly with cold splatters of rain, but it was real. It didn't feel scared or unsure, your fingers were just as tight wrapped around his own. Bucky had felt the lows, god had he felt the lows, but this moment, despite the rain and cold, this was a high point, the highest in a very long time.   
You didn't know where he was taking you. Your feet slapped against the pavement, jarring your knees and leaving you with shallow breath. Ahead you could see Sky, leading the pack without a care. You wondered how she knew where she was going, you wondered if Bucky even knew where you were headed.  
Bucky hadn't known where he was going at first, his mind blank of anything but you and Sky and the reunion he had put off for too long. It was only when he passed a familiar bodega that he realized where his feet were taking him.  
The three of you skidded into the lobby of Avengers Tower, sliding on the polished masonry comically, legs scrambling for purchase as arms flailed in an attempt to maintain balance. Into an elevator and up several floors and out again. There was no flailing or slipping on this floor, but the once clean carpet was left wet and muddy by two sets of footprints and four paws. You let out a sound of affronted surprise as Sky shook her entire body back and forth, spraying wet dog scented water into the air.  
“Gross!”   
Bucky laughed and tugged on Sky's leash, leading her down a dim, short hallway. Bucky flicked on a light through a partially open door. As he and Sky pushed their way inside you caught glimpse of a mirror and sink, the bathroom. You followed silently, amused by how well the two had taken to each other, to doing their own thing. The door to your right opened suddenly as you passed it, making you jump.  
“Oh! I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”  
It was the blond man from the weeks before, the one who you realized you had seen in the papers, on the news, in museums, basically everywhere. Captain America, Bucky's best friend, Avenger…  
“Hi, Steve Rogers.”  
Your hand fumbled briefly to catch his in a handshake. You blamed the rain. Your name was said, but not by you. The word echoed from the bathroom where Bucky and Sky were waiting, over the sound if running water. Steve smiled softly in the direction of the voice.   
“You should get in there.”   
You nodded, bringing your hand up in a small wave goodbye. Steve's door closed gently, leaving you alone in the hallway with one shining light to guide you.   
The sight that befell you inside the bathroom was one you hoped to never forget. A panting German Shepherd sitting obediently in a deep bathtub. A smiling super soldier squeezing an upturned purple bottle into the running water. Water and soap mingled and churned, producing a layer of bubbles that Sky sniffed with interest. Bucky turned to you, righting the bottle and setting it on the edge of the tub.  
“I hope Natasha doesn't mind. She never uses this stuff anyway.”   
“Do all of you share one bathroom?”   
You set yourself on the floor beside Bucky, spinning the tap until the water stopped pouring out.  
“No, it's just me and Steve on this side. Nat sometimes spends the night with Steve. They think no one knows...but we all do.”  
This was a side of Bucky you had never seen before. He was unreserved, even sociable. His face was affixed with a smile that didn't appear to be expiring anytime soon. Your eyes went wide as he shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up, dripping one arm of flesh and another of metal into the soapy water.  
“So she left this behind? Shouldn't a spy be more careful about this kind of stuff?”  
Bucky shoots a smirk your way, and despite the chill you were catching from your soaked clothes you felt a warmth spread through your chest, ignited by the spark in his eyes.  
“I think she wants us to know, in her own way.”  
You helped Bucky scrub Sky down, the canine sitting patiently for a time before becoming restless. In the safety of fur and suds your hands met and departed, then met again. All fingers brushed, even false digits didn't pull away. To Bucky the feeling was intoxicating, it was like riding the Cyclone at Coney Island again. There was the anticipation, the shiver of fear, then the elation of sensation, and then it was over and he wanted to do it all again.   
You drained the tub of brownish water while Bucky fetched a towel from his room. You rubbed your arms in the attempt to get rid of the almost permanent goose flesh. A heavy weight settled across your shoulders and you grabbed the edges of the blanket greedily, pulling the dry throw closer around your body.  
“Thanks.”  
Bucky nodded and wrapped Sky up in a large green towel, rubbing his hands up and down her sides and back through the layer. You noticed bucky had changed his shirt but did not fully cover his arm as he had all the times before.  
“Am I doing a good job?”  
You clocked your head to the side in confusion and Bucky pulled the towel off of Sky's head, her ears popping up like ducks in a carnival shooting gallery. She looked straight up into Bucky's face, tongue falling out the side as she huffed out hot dog breath.  
“With her, I mean. I've never had a dog before.”  
“You're a natural.”  
He smiled wider and removed the towel, now darker and heavier, from Sky completely. She shook again, but this time only flecks of water hit you, almost like a light misting. It smelled like lavender and sage. You stood, legs aching from sitting on the tile floor for so long. Removing the blanket from your shoulders you held it out to Bucky, suddenly cold and downcast as if you were still outside in the rain.   
“I should go. It's late.”  
“It's still raining.”  
You didn't argue. You could hear rain hitting the side of the building, loud and persistent. You didn't want to leave, you wanted to stay warm in the blanket, toasty under the light of Bucky's eyes, his smile. But you never really stayed an hour past the delivery of a service animal and it felt like you were intruding on Sky and Bucky's new life.   
“If you really want to leave I can get you a ride. But I would like you to stay and I think Sky would too.”  
You nodded and wrapped yourself back in the blanket. Bucky opened the bathroom door and Sky scurried out. You could hear her nails scrape against the carpet as she moved fast, attempting to air dry herself down in her deepest layers. Bucky held the door open and you stepped back into the hallway.  
“We can go to the living room,” he started, and though you couldn't see him you knew his smile and the carefree demeanor had run off with the dog.  
“My bedroom is right here, but it's messy-”  
“I don't mind if you don't”  
You turned around, made sure Bucky could see the honesty in your face. He opened the door next to the bathroom and yet again allowed you to step inside first.   
Apparently when Bucky said his room was messy he meant the bed was not made and the room smelt of stale sweat. The floor was clean of clothes and his desktop was spotless save for a few neatly stacked notebooks and pens laid out in an orderly row.   
“It's not messy at all. Cleaner than my place.”  
Bucky chuckled and even though you weren't joking you let him laugh at you.  
“Some parts of the service never left me. Cleanliness was one of them. I hated making my bed though, still do.”  
You sat on the carpet at the end of the bed, leaning back against the mattress, Bucky joined you and Sky, who had slipped in before Bucky shut the door, hopped up onto the bed. You could hear her spin around before settling in, her bedtime ritual.  
“You were meant to have her you know. I knew it the first day you two met.”  
Bucky looked up, smile on the cusp of reforming, before he let his head and mouth drop back down.  
“Only because I'm messed up. I couldn't even walk through the park without losing myself.”  
“You're not messed up Bucky.”  
He shook his head and lifted his arm, put it on display for both of you to see clearly. He flexed it and the machinery spun and whirred.  
“I'm not whole. I lost parts of me a long time ago. I've heard them say it; the doctors, Steve, the team. I'm disabled, an amputee, suffering from anxiety and PTSD. I'm broken and nothing can fix me.”  
“I'm dyslexic.”  
The words spilled from your mouth in place of the tears gathering in your eyes. Bucky was silent, his arm fell back to his side and he was looking at you, differently than before, more curious and sceptical. It was a look you had seen a few times. Before you stopped telling people.  
“I thought something was wrong with me growing up. I would stare at words and they wouldn't sit still. It was like, everytime I tried to read I had to play a game of tag with each letter. I thought I was stupid and slow. I dreaded going to school because I didn't want to be picked to read outloud. I thought I was broken, unfixable. There is no cure.”  
Bucky wiped a tear from your cheek and you realized the dam had finally broke. Never had you talked to someone about your dyslexia like this. Your throat felt raw with the honesty, like you had cut it open and taken sand paper to the sensitive tissue. Your hand reached out, desperate to touch him, to connect physically in case your words couldn't. Your hand found his leg and squeezed.  
“When I was older I discovered audio books. I listed to every book I was too scared to read in school, even the textbooks if they had them. It turns out I love reading I just needed to do it a little differently than other people.”  
A hand came to rest on top of yours, warm and pliant, made of flesh and bone. You wiped your own tears away this time and laughed. It soothed your aching throat like a balm.  
“Sky is your audiobook. She will help you reach the same end in a different way. You're not broken Bucky, not at all.”  
A cold wet nose the shell of Bucky's ear. He looked behind him, taking in large front paws and a furry brown muzzle with a damp black nose. He looked into her eyes, dark and deep in color but so open and warm and loving. And if he looked beyond them he could see the lazy swipe of a tail, back and forth like a windshield wiper.   
“I think I'm ready.” He finally said, his large hand coming to rest on the Shepherd’s head, the plates his fingers shifted but he did not pull away. He would not harm her, he was in control and in the times he wasn't he could rely on her to guide him back.


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of grass and sun. He had been looking forward to this all week. In his hand was a dog leash and on the end was Sky. Her tail was wagging furiously and her feet danced in excitement. A hand slapped Bucky's back and he turned his head.   
“I'll be on the trail.” Steve told him.   
Bucky smirked and glanced down at the canine attached to Steve's own leash, a nameless rescue Steve had picked up a week ago. They loved to run together every morning and it came to no surprise that they would try out the park trails. With a nod the pair departed on a well worn path. Bucky watched them go until he could not see them past the tree line.   
Bucky and Sky walked their own familiar path past a group of yogis and a picnic playdate hosted by two drinking mothers with amused toddlers at their feet. Sky tested the length of her leash a few times, eager to get to their destination, but when Bucky said her name she returned to his side obediently.   
If it was up to him he would run, take off in a sprint until he reached the edge of the lake. The voice in his head held him back, whispering to him for days now. It told him you wouldn't be there or that you would be there but wouldn't want to see him. It told him a lot of things that he tried not to listen to, but with each step closer to the lake his chest filled with icy water. The sun was too bright, colors too vibrant, the smells he had breathed in so deeply a few minutes ago made him gag. He couldn't do this.  
Sky was in front of him making him stop. He realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled, the breath making Sky's ears wobble as she stretched her body up his chest. He bent his head until it touched hers. The words in his head were quiet compared to the smells and sound of the German Shepherd. With a kiss to her skull he lifted his head, letting the sun hit his face and spotted you standing a few feet away, your smile welcoming him and discrediting the fears that had stopped him in his tracks.   
“Hey you.”  
Sky dropped from Bucky's chest and bounded over to you. You crouched down with arms outstretched, grasping and patting every inch of Sky's wriggling back as she licked your face. You stood up and Bucky was close, but not close enough. You held out an arm with palm up and open.   
“How are you?”  
You waited for the response, which was less about Bucky's words and more about his actions. You had learned quickly in the months since he took Sky how to read him. If his hand met yours and it was warm and human, he wasn't doing so well. If his hand was cold and metallic it was a better day. Today Bucky stepped closer, past your hand, and wrapped his arms around your body. He pulled you close, and like with Sky he put his head to yours.  
“I'm better now that I see you.”  
Your face body and face warmed at the feel of him, at the nakedness of his words. They were an unexpected confession. Your heart inflated with hope that after weeks of edging around it, something would finally happen between you.  
“I'm always happy to see you Bucky.”  
Your hands came around his neck, toying with the ends of his hair, those strands that strayed from his bun. You tilted your chin towards him, an offering you prayed he would accept.   
Fifty pounds of force barreled between your legs setting you off kilter. You clung tighter to Bucky's nape as paws stepped on your feet but his arms loosened from your hips in interest.   
Between your feet was Sky, front paws flush against the ground and rump high, her tail like a flag in a strong wind. Her tongue lolled from her mouth and dripped saliva into the plush grass. A bewildered Beagle puppy with comically large ears, tilted her head back and forth as if it would help her understand Sky's body language. You scooped her up, displaying her face and belly to Bucky.  
“This is Petunia.”  
He pinched a paw between his thumb and forefinger, digits whirring and shifting but remaining delicate. Bucky liked proving himself this way, choosing to control the extension of himself that he once feared and still did on his bad days.   
“She's adorable.”  
“I think she's perfect for Tony.”  
You set Petunia back down and watched Sky sniff her face. She sat on her hip and shook her head, ears flopping noisily.   
“She will take a few months to train. She's still a puppy but she's smart and a good listener.”  
“You should introduce them.”  
You nodded and finally looked up from the playful pair. Bucky was looking at you, biting his lip as if he waiting for something. You wondered if he was waiting for you to come closer, to put your arms back around his neck, to tilt your head back up so your lips were once again so close. Your fingers gently reached out, subtle and unnoticed until they touched Bucky's. He didn't pull away and your heart sped up. You felt emboldened and laced your fingers in his. Bucky squeezed your hand in his practiced gentleness and was now biting his lip to suppress a grin.   
“Are you inviting me over again?”  
Your tone was playful, but the tension in your tongue as you waited for his answer exposed your nervousness. You were afraid he would catch sight of it behind your teeth.   
Bucky didn't notice anything past his own thoughts that came stuttering out of his mouth unbidden.  
“Y-yeah of course. I-I mean if you want maybe, maybe we can have lunch. O-or dinner. Or we can just hang out if you don't want-”  
Your lips connected with Bucky's cheek and held long. His stuttering halted and a long buried instinct took over. He turned his head and his lips met yours. His mouth moved with yours in a way they hadn't moved in years. His chest rattled in excitement when you responded eagerly. He could cry, you didn't push him away, he wasn't hurting you, there was no blood or pain or screaming. For once his mind was blank and he had no room for thoughts of how he could hurt you and mess everything up  
You pulled away, suddenly shy, all your courage having seeped from your lips during the kiss. You cleared your throat.  
“Dinner would be nice.”  
“Yeah,” Bucky agreed with a soft smile. “dinner would be nice.”


End file.
